3 Sector 7 short stories
by Devinedragon
Summary: In Sector 7 its business as usual. What? The Secretary of Defence wants us to close down, Maggie and Glen want a job and a frozen Megatron is not cooperative... piece of cake.


Title: Habit, Out of time, trapped.

Author: Devinedragon

Summary: In Sector 7 its business as usual. What? The Secretary of Defence wants us to close down?

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Lying, Simmons, oddness, Simmons, Sector 7, dead decepticons

Spoilers: Slight, if you haven't seen the 2007 movie...

Characters: Decepticons, humans, unnamed robots, Blackout, Megatron, Maggie Madsen, Glen Whitmann, Reggie Simmons, Tom Banacheck, John Keller,

Generator: .

**Blackout / Reggie Simmons / habit**

Reggie Simmons leaned at the half-open doors of an cargo container to peep at the black metal that lie inside.

"Take a good look, this will probably be the last time we'll see Blackout and company... They will be dumped in the deepest part of the Laurentian Abyss today." Keller said behind him. Simmons grunted in reply. Sighing he took a last glance before he closed the doors.

"I still think we should save one of them to study..."

The secretary of Defence shrugged. "The Autobots thought we should invent our own future."

"Easy for them to say, they already have weapons that can kill a hostile N.B.E."

"A 'Decepticon', and we already have weapons that can kill a cybertronian, Mission City and Quatar proved that." was said with a sigh.

"Whatever... my point is that we are now dependant on that the other N.B.E.s, the Autobots, first of all stays friendly, and on top on that that they protect us from the threat that comes from them being here."

"The threat from the Autobots?" An eyebrow rose.

"Yes. They are a threat. They are vehicles, cars. That will run around on our ways, in our cities, among our children..." Simmons flailed a hand for emphasis. "And as far as we know they might not even know that we have traffic laws."

"So you are suggesting that they should pass a test for a drivings license before we let them off the Autobot base?" the amusement was evident in the reply.

"Yes... no... in a way. I don't mean it like putting a teacher in the seat and have him to teach them how to parallel park and how to drive on icy roads... Unless they seriously want to know that considering the fact that our climate might not be the same as what they are used to. Have they ever driven on icy roads before they came here? But it would be a good idea to make sure that they know that the funny coloured light-shows that stands by the roads, also known as traffic-lights, are important. And that we do have a system in how we drive..." Simmons ended his tirade.

"Hmm, I see your point, I will tell Optimus Prime that he will be responsible for teaching his team and any new arrivals the laws around here, and I will make sure that he knows them."

Keller made his goodbyes with the reminder that Sector 7 was to be dismantled. Simmons nodded.

"I know. I heard it from Banachek last week. Two months from now, Sector seven will no longer exist."

"I'm glad to hear that. Have everyone gotten any new job yet?"

"Yes, most that worked for us were skilled engineers and scientists... worthy their weight in gold. They were nabbed by another industry almost the same day as they were fired..."

"Good, good... and... you?"

"I'm going to be supervising the N.B.E.s. So I'll know if you spoke to Optimus about the traffic laws..."

"Good to hear..." Keller said with a nod and left.

Simmons walked to his car as the containers were loaded onto the ship, and the ship started its trip. He headed to a hidden facility deep in the mountains. He wouldn't tell anyone that S7s engineers and scientists had constructed robots that was visually similar to the conquered deceptions. And he had no plans to inform Keller that they had hrrmm... accidentally... swapped these fake robots with the real ones...

The idea that someone could think it was acceptable to have a handful unknown aliens running around without official supervision, and also literally throw away the possibility to study them was... absurd.

Walking into the deep concrete covered underground room that had been ready and empty for decades, he took the stairs that would bring him closer to N.B.E-5 alias Blackout. He nodded to Banachek when he passed by the remains of N.B.E-1.

The gleaming, black, metal-monster greeted him with silence, an impression of power and a slight odour of gunpowder.

"You, my friend, are magnificent..." he said to the black helicopter.

"If you say so Simmons, he is in pretty good shape too, so hopefully we will be able to revive him..." came Banacheks voice from behind him. Simmons turned his head.

"I take it that the name-change from 'Sector 7' proceeds smoothly then..." A smile.

A nod. "We're moving our headquarters as we speak. It's business as usual."

After all... this wasn't the first time their sector was to be 'shut down'.

**Maggie Madsen / Reggie Simmons / out of time**

She had seen the most marvellous things during the time she had helped the government to crack the code that had hacked the military network.

Then, afterwards, when the battle had been fought...

"Thank you for your cooperation. Remember not to tell anyone. Goodbye."

Only the kid and his family, had managed to stay in touch with the Autobots. The government jealousy guarded the aliens from the rest of humanity.

She wanted more. She needed more. There was no challenge left for her in the world when all she could think of was sentient, _sapient_ computers...

She and Glen had asked Keller and the government for work several times and had always received a polite 'no thank you, try another day' in reply every time.

Over a year later she sat and stared at the sombre card Simmons had given her and Glen behind Kellers back with a discreet "Call me". Sighing she flipped open her mobile phone.

"Simmons."

"Hi this is Maggie Madsen, I don't know if you remember me...?"

"Yes, Mission City, the code and the archive... I remember. What can I do for you?"

They met at a small diner in a rural town out in nowhere two hours ride from her home. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to the man. During the action he had come out like a... crazy fanatic or something. But now, when she was complaining about that neither she or Glen had been able to get an interesting job, what they wanted to do, to achieve, her dreams... he was very understanding. Jokingly she said:

"Should we have had a chance to get an interesting job within Sector 7?"

He glanced at her silently for a moment, before answering: "Yes."

"Hmm" She smiled and sipped at her coffee. "I believe you. It's a pity that Sector 7 was forced to close down. Now I understand how anyone could want to live like that..."

Simmons raised an eyebrow "... Closed down?"

She stared at him a long time before she started to smile. "You mean...?"

"Hmm," He glanced at her. "What? No no no, what I meant was when something is closed down one usually have time to wrap up everything. Sector 7 was gone from one day to another. Everything in the old Sector 7 facilities has been burned, literally."

The disappointment was evident in her face and she leaned back in her chair. "I guess..." A sigh. "I never thought it would end like this..."

She noticed the glance he gave her, a calculating, considering glance, like he...

He got up. "Do you want to come with me on a trip?"

She stilled, unsure. "Okay...?"

They got out to their cars before he told her that they might as well pick up Mr Whitmann too. "I'm going to show you what I'm doing these days... you two might find it... interesting..."

**Tom Banachek / Megatron / trapped**

Banacheck could appreciate the irony of his situation. For months he had been trying to see N.B.E.-1 alias 'Megatron' without being able to. It had been deemed too risky for him to get here as he was one of the few official from the now assumed to be non-existent Sector 7.

And now?

Now he was stuck on Megatrons shoulder because the stairs fell down. He wondered how long it would take before someone noticed that he was stuck up here...


End file.
